must be seduced by an elf. Otherwise, Dagda’s cauldron will run dry and we’ll all starve.»
«What cauldron is it? And who is Dagda?» Gloria remembered Angus saying that name to scare the strangers away from her. It had a stronger effect on them than a sword. The whole company scattered. Apparently, sometimes a spell is a more powerful weapon than a sword.
But the sword in her hands is magical! To handle it, you need magic lessons from an elf in addition to dexterity and strength.
«All right, you can teach me,» she graciously allowed.
«And what do I get in return?» The elf decided to bargain.
«What do you want?»
«Let’s start with a kiss!»
The elf brazenly fell to her lips. The kiss was sweeter than honey. But Gloria felt shame and anxiety. It wasn’t a boy, it was an elf! To kiss an elf was to betray the humans. Gloria pushed him away.
«I don’t give advances.»
The elf took offense.
«First train me, and then there will be payment,» she softened.
After flying over the hall, it was nice to feel the hard floor under her feet. Negotiating with the elf was unexpectedly difficult. As soon as someone approached the entrance to the hall, the elf instantly disappeared into the tapestry as if he had never existed. The conversation was not over.
A carpet of roses
Time passed and the elf did not return. How could she make him reappear? For some reason, Gloria ached to see him again. What was so special about him, this elf? Only that he was an elf. A real one!
Gloria paced around the tapestry until her behavior was considered strange. Knights and servants began whispering about her as if she were crazy. Their words were ear-splitting, even though they were standing far away from her. How could it be that she could hear quiet speech at a great distance? Her hearing had not been so sharp before. Had the elf infected her with magic?
Could magic be infected? Gloria frowned. She didn’t know much about magic, and she wasn’t interested in the magical arts. But the promise to teach her how to fight professionally stuck in her mind.
Anyway, the elf promised and disappeared. There was a reason they say all elves were liars. Maybe he was deliberately trying to tease her, when he noticed that she wanted to learn how to wield a sword.
Gloria struggled to find her way to her own bedroom. It was spacious, with a large boudoir and dressing room. It looked like Amaranta’s former quarters. Even her things were still here. Gloria recognized her combs and tiara stacked on the dressing table.
But her biggest surprise was in the bedroom, where everything smelled like a garden. The bed was braided with red roses. The canopy had become a flower garden. The smell was intoxicating. Gloria didn’t mind the roses, but the thorns hurt. For some reason, the only roses in her room were red.
«It’s because of passion,» was a whispered voice to Gloria. «There was only passion here.»
Gloria listened. It was like a whole chorus whispering.
«It’s not a bed, it’s a needlepoint,» she complained as she examined the bed. All the roses had very sharp thorns. But are there roses without thorns? What had she hoped for? The sight of thorns broke the idyll. The bed of paradise was unfit for sleep.
So what to do? Sleep on the floor? Or try to pick roses? There were a lot of them. If you scrub the bed of them like weeds, it’ll take all night. Maybe cut the roses with a sword?
The sword wouldn’t cut them off. The blade only slid along the stems, which didn’t even leave a scratch. Gloria despaired. Should she ask for other quarters? Everyone had already gone to bed. And she didn’t want to break through the closed doors of the castle herself. She didn’t own the place, after all.
«Lie down! Don’t be afraid!» Someone said. «The thorns only hurt outsiders. And you’re Amaranta’s cousin.»
Gloria turned around nervously. She could tell from the tone of the voice that a young man was speaking. He shouldn’t be in her bedroom. But the bedroom was empty.
What the hell is going on? Why was she hearing voices in empty rooms? Gloria never decided to lie down on the spiked bed. Better to sleep on the floor. The couches and sofas in the boudoir were too narrow for a full-length sleeper.
Why should she bother? There are plenty of uninhabited towers in the castle. No one would even notice that she’d broken through the door of one of them. Gloria secretly hid a lock pick in her luggage. What could it be good for? Well, it finally came in handy.
She walked down the corridor, spotted a spiral staircase leading to a tall tower. The tower’s oak door was locked. The doorknob was covered in cobwebs. The keyhole was covered in a strange yellowish mold. Not even a lock pick could open the lock. Gloria was about to look for another tower when suddenly a voice above her ear whispered.
«Just press your palm against the door and say, «I am the elf’s lover, I need your help.»
What a joke! Or fantasy? Naturally no one was standing behind Gloria’s back, but she decided to try her luck, put her palm to the door and stupidly repeated:
«I am the elf’s lover, I need your help.»
It was silly to talk to a door, that is, to an inanimate object. Only a magician or a madman could do that. Gloria felt like a prankster and laughed at herself, but the keyhole suddenly shone brightly. The door opened. The interior of the tower was far from luxurious and very dark. Gloria was afraid to go in. What if it was some kind of magic trap? Was it a joke of the elves, for example? Probably they wanted to lock her in this tower forever, and no one would hear her screams.
Out of caution, Gloria backed away, but a golden light suddenly flashed inside. It drew nearer and formed itself into a figure. And there on the threshold stood a slender lady who seemed to be all gold.
«Good evening, or good night,» said Gloria, stammering. «I didn’t know you lived here. I’m sorry to intrude! I thought there were no women in the castle at all.»
Did the cunning Angus have a mistress living here? Or is it some mad relative who’s been kept locked up on purpose? The lady was behaving strangely. She looked like a golden ghost. Without answering Gloria, she walked past with a look of regal dignity. Her cape whipped Gloria’s shoulder, leaving scratches on her shoulder as if she had stepped on something metal rather than cloth.
Gloria stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded. While she stood there pondering, the tower door slammed itself shut. So be it! Sleeping in such a mysterious tower was risky anyway.
Gloria went down the spiral staircase. There was no sign of the golden lady. But maybe now, in the night, the elf would sprout again from the tapestry in the great hall. Gloria hurried there. Her feet were tangled in something. Had weeds sprouted in the castle floor? In ruins, weeds often sprouted between the stones, but Angus’s castle had not yet become a ruin. The abundance of dust made her sneeze.
Gloria looked up to see where her feet had caught. It turned out that two roses had sprouted in the floor. Wow! How did they manage to take root here? Even in Aluar’s gardens it was difficult to graft some varieties of roses, but in Angus’ castle they could grow in the stones. Miracles, indeed!
The miracles had only just begun. As soon as she closed her eyes, a marvelous fragrance hit her nostrils. Some thin voices squeaked something into her ears in an incomprehensible language. Gloria felt her feet treading on something soft. The floor below was not a floor, but a carpet of roses. Was such a thing possible? Or was she dreaming? Gloria pinched herself just in case.
She remembered exactly that it was night, but dawn was shining all around. The castle walls had disappeared. A meadow of roses stretched all around. She had never seen a whole